


19. Last Evening in Fiji

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [19]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4551603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	19. Last Evening in Fiji

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

It's been an amazing few days, full of sunshine, sex, scening and laughter, Stephen feels relaxed and totally refreshed. He's barely left Antony's side the entire time, and that's suited him just fine. His new Sir and lover has proved himself a warm, fun and attentive man. Slipping easily from playful to dominating with ease. Right now they're getting ready to go eat one last dinner at one of the resort's restaurants before their last night. "Hey, what do you want me to wear?" Stephen calls out - his Sir the other side of the bathroom door. 

"Long pants, short-sleeved shirt," Antony calls back. "This one has a dress code," he adds, rolling his eyes. Trust them to make the steakhouse the one where you have to dress up.

Stephen makes a 'meh' face, it's the one thing he's loved this week, the freedom to go naked whenever it suited either himself or Antony to do so. "No shorts then," he laughs back, seen as Antony didn't stipulate them, he's not going to wear them. He hunts out a pair of dark blue linen trousers and a white short sleeve button down shirt to go with. And lays them out on the bed. 

"Nope." Antony shakes his head as he walks out of the bathroom naked, hair still damp from the shower. "Although if you want we can sit in the clothing optional section and you can strip down," he offers, smiling at Stephen. "Apparently they just want you _in_ clothes when you arrive," he says with a chuckle, picking out a pair of gray linen pants from his things, a couple shirts eyed before he settles on a black one.

"S'your call boss," Stephen shrugs as he pulls on his pants. "I'm presentable, clothed or not." He zips himself up and picks up his shirt. He can't help but watch his lover move around, the sight of him naked hasn't lost any of its kick. Antony really is beautifully put together, and then there's that dick, that hand thick between his thighs, even when he's not aroused. 

Antony grins and crooks a finger at him. "C'mere. Before you put that on," he says, in no hurry to get dressed himself.

Quirking a brow Stephen tosses his shirt back on the bed and saunters up to his lover. "Yes Sir?" he drawls, his blue eyes dancing. 

"I just wanted to take a minute to admire this," Antony says, placing both hands on Stephen's washboard abs, the rock hard muscle underneath making his cock twitch, "before you cover up."

Those self same muscles flutter at the caress. "Haven't you spent enough time admiring and using me already this week?" Stephen teases, sliding his own hands up Antony's muscular forearms. "It's all yours."

"Are you kidding? I need to memorize every inch for when I'm away," Antony says, sliding his hands higher, thumbs stroking over Stephen's nipples.

His breath catches and his eyelids droop to give Stephen a more languid look. "You have pictures, you have the memories of this week..." he murmurs, and boy have they made memories, there cannot be a spot on Stephen that Antony hasn't tasted, bitten, tormented. 

"Are you saying I shouldn't be touching you?" Antony teases, pinching the hard nubs between his fingers.

Stephen's breath hitches at that, he huffs out a laugh. "No, of course not, just...you should know me by now, all of me," he offers. 

"I do, but there are going to be _weeks_ where I don't get to touch you, so when I do? I'm going to take full advantage," Antony says, then drops his hands, giving Stephen another smile. "Put your shirt on. Let's go have some dinner."

 _Weeks..._ Stephens's well aware they've been in a perfect bubble of 'not-real-life' this past week and he's not yet ready to give up the fantasy. "I don't want to talk about being apart, we've still got time here," he murmurs as he steps away to tug on his shirt, he drops his chin and concentrates on buttoning it up. 

"Yeah, and I'm still in L.A. for another week when we get back," Antony says, getting dressed. "But you're right. We need to just be." Which he's getting a lot better at. Not perfect by any means but better.

"If you're still around then, do I get to see you?" They've not really talked about how it's supposed to play out when they're not in a vacation bubble. Stephen's hoping they'll see each other often, at the club if nowhere else, but he'll take whatever Antony can offer him. 

"Definitely," Antony says, buttoning his shirt. "If you can stay over at my place, I'd like you to."

"I can come over after work, sure, as often as you like," Stephen looks up, reaching to adjust his collar, tucking the buckle back around to the nape of his neck. "I'd just need to bring a few things over that's all."

"There's room in my closet and in the bathroom. Bring over whatever you want and let me know if there's anything you want me to get in food-wise for you," Antony says, standing there, watching Stephen, a smile on his face.

"Cake, chocolate," Stephen laughs, stepping up to slide his arms around Antony's waist. "But you would have figured that out by now, right?"

Antony laughs. "Cake, chocolate and salted caramel." He grins, grabbing his wallet from the table and shoves it in his back pocket without moving from Stephen's embrace. "What about breakfast though?"

"Protein heavy," Stephen pulls a face, "This god like body does not happen by eating berries and seeds for breakfast," he rolls his eyes at himself. 

"Got it. No berries, no seeds, heavy on the lean protein," Antony says, smiling. "You can check out what I've got when you're over and let me know if you want anything else." The thought that he's going to have let two men into his private space in a matter of weeks blowing his mind a little. "Hungry?"

"Hmmm," Stephen tugs Antony closer. "All that fucking today's made me ravenous," he drawls leaning in to brush one last sexy kiss against Antony's mouth. 

Antony makes a soft pleased sound at the kiss but resists the urge to deepen it, instead linking their fingers and tugging Stephen out the door. "Would you want another beach vacation the next time you're off or would you rather do the city thing - Rome, Paris...?" 

Stephen snorts his amusement at that, happy to let Antony pull him along a little. "Planning our next escape already?" He shrugs. "A city break would be cool, surprise me," he decides, because he's learning one thing - to trust his lover and Sir - so far he's not led them wrong at all. 

Antony likes the idea of surprising Stephen, whisking him off to destinations unknown, their mutual love for travel one of things that's attracted him to his boy from the start. Most of his crew and most actors he's known prefer to stay home when they're on break, travel a chore rather than a passion. "Okay," he says, giving Stephen's fingers a squeeze. "Will I ever get to meet your parents? Do they know about me?"

Okay that makes Stephen blink, he almost stops in his tracks, but catches himself, masking it as a half step. "Where the hell did that come from?" he blurts out, he's not taken anyone home in a very, very long time. But then he's not been more than a boy in a very very long time either, and you don't exactly take your Dominant home to meet the folks when you're not (good enough to also be) a partner. 

Antony looks at Stephen. "You told me you were out with them," he says softly. "That you're close to them. I thought... never mind." Because it's obvious he's freaked Stephen out and even more obvious that Stephen doesn't really think of him as his boyfriend. Someone to _be_ talked about. Fuck.

"Hey!" Stephen does stop now, and he tugs on Antony's hand to make him do the same. "No, don't ever do the 'never mind' thing with me...honesty, that's what we've promised each other." He steps up, into Antony's personal space. "Have I told them? No, not yet, you know why? Because I'm still trying to take all this in, the club, you, us...this thing we're making happen," he blows out a breath. "I haven't had anyone to tell them about, or to take home in years, I've not been someone's boyfriend or significant other for a really long time. I was a boy and that kinda deal doesn't lend itself to get togethers at the holidays." He reaches up now to finger Antony's dog tags. "I'm still trying to make space for you in my head as my lover and boyfriend and not just my Sir, it's a habit that was forced on me and not one I'm able to break so easily." 

Antony exhales softly. "I get it and I'm sorry. I thought it was an innocent question but it wasn't - not from your perspective." He shakes his head at himself. "You might have to remind me sometimes if I'm moving too fast for you or asking things you aren't comfortable with yet."

"No, no Tony it's all good, it's all been amazingly wonderfully good so far," Stephen lets the tags slide out of his fingers and instead he slides his hand around the back of his lover's neck. "Trust me, after this week? I _will_ be telling my Mom I've met this amazing guy who treats me like a fucking prince." He holds Antony's gaze. "Okay?"

Antony nods. He hopes he's not pushing Stephen into doing anything he's not yet ready for, but he's not going to question him. Stephen may be his boy but that doesn't make him any less of an adult. "Okay," he says, lips curving into a soft smile. "Thanks."

"And the 'never mind' thing...don't do that, it leaves me unsettled, and worried, I'd rather face anything head on," Stephen squeezes the nape of Antony's neck. "Deal?"

"Deal," Antony promises. It's really not like him anyway, but when conflict is ninety percent of his fucking job, he tends to avoid it in his personal life.

Planting a quick but firm kiss on his Antony's mouth to seal their agreement Stephen's smiling when he pulls back. "Food?" he asks hopefully as his belly gives a perfectly timed rumble. 

"Definitely," Antony answers, taking Stephen's hand again as they make their way to the waterfront steakhouse which sits partially on the beach and partially on the water. He's reserved a quiet table on the far side, out over the water, the restaurant dark except for the dozens of candles and a few small lanterns dotted about. "Do you feel like wine?" he asks, perusing the list.

It's intimate and quiet, kinda perfect for their last night Stephen thinks. "Yeah go on, I don't want to go too mad tonight, travelling with a hangover always sucks." He stretches his legs out under the table and watches his lover. 

"We'll get a bottle and just drink what we feel like," Antony says, telling the sommelier they'll try the 2004 Domaine Du Vieux Chateauneuf Du Pape. "Do you know what you're having?" he asks when the man steps away.

Stephen shakes his head and tosses the menu on the table. "I can't decide. Maybe you can choose, or I'll ask the waiter what he recommends tonight." After all it's not like he's going to be getting a bad meal, whatever he has. He shuffles his seat forward a little and props his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm. "Do we need to talk about the boyfriend part of us?" he asks softly, still a little discomforted at how he seemed to have hurt Antony's feelings earlier. 

"What about it?" Antony asks, setting his menu aside. "I get that this is all happening fast, maybe too fast even, and if you need me to back off or give you room to adjust, that's okay."

Stephen's brows climb as Antony speaks. "Did I say that?" He queries reaching out to take Antony's hand. "No, I just wanted to check in, because I clearly upset you back there, and that's going to happen if we don't stop and assess where we're at. The very nature of what we have is so complicated, the D/s, the time apart, the intense time together...it's all complications isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Antony agrees slowly, thinking about that, thinking about it from Stephen's perspective. "I guess I'm used to my life being complicated. All of this just seems to fit right in," he says with a soft laugh.

"Well I've had a year of being footloose, of only having to worry about work, so this is different for me, I have to totally shift my focus when I'm with you. You become my priority, when I'm not with you, work is...and then there's the couple thing...I'm out of practise, but I'm enjoying the ride so far," Stephen gives Antony's arm a squeeze and sits back. "It's good, from where I am, we're good."

Antony smiles. "Good, I'm glad, because it feels really good to me," he says. "Actually, it feels amazing. Like I had this whole part of my life sort of on hold or shut down before and now - it's not just work and home and work again." He pauses, exhaling softly before he adds, "I really needed you to come into my life."

Stephen's smile is one of utter pleasure. "Your romantic is showing again," he teases softly. "And thank you," he adds, tilting his head to study his lover. 

"Just don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my reputation," Antony teases. Mostly.

"Why would I? You're mine to enjoy, those are our intimacies," Stephen shrugs with a smile. He turns his attention to the waiter when he reappears for their order. "I'd like to let my Sir choose my food," he murmurs with a wink at Antony. 

Antony grins at that. "I'll have the Kobe hanger steak, rare," he tells the waiter, "with the roast potatoes and garlic and lemon green beans and my boy will have the eye fillet, rarer end of medium rare, with the king prawns, corn on the cob and onion rings."

Stephen smiles at Antony and then the waiter, murmuring a quiet 'thank you'. "I like that you let me defer to you even if we're not strictly in role, thanks," he says to Antony once they're alone again. 

"I like things more fluid," Antony says, sitting back for a moment as the sommelier appears with their wine. He tastes it, nods his approval, watching as the man pours their glasses and leaves the wine in a silver bucket beside them. "I have a number of friends with boys - and girls - and some of them are insanely formal - I don't think I've ever heard their submissives speak in the first person. And then I know a couple of guys at the other end, whose boys actually mouth off at them - not in front of strangers and not enough to be rude, but definitely bordering on bratty, and..." he shrugs. "I think I prefer something in the middle, but honestly? I don't know what that looks like yet. I like the idea of us figuring out what works for us and not being influenced by anyone else's opinion."

Stephen picks up his glass and takes a sip, lets the wine roll over his tongue before he replies. "Cam liked me formal, not totally third person, though you know yourself I find that voice when I'm deep, but I certainly feel more freedom to respond to you." He licks his lips as his brow creases in memory. "It was hard at first, to bite my tongue, but I learned my lesson soon enough," he blows out a breath and looks up, smiles. "I don't have to do that with you."

"No, because what I want is you," Antony says, taking another sip of his wine. "If I just wanted a boy, I could pretty much order one from Citadel. But I liked the way we clicked that first night and at dinner and after you asked me to make you lick my come from that rubber..." He grins. "And it wasn't just because you were into being humiliated. It was the combination. The way you are when you're not in role combined with what you're like when you're under. I want both those things. I don't ever want to train you into being the boy I could just order up."

Stephen lets those words settle, takes them in, then he reaches out with his foot and nudges at Antony's ankle. "I needed to hear you say that, exactly like that, and I might need to hear it some more before I get past my being a partner thing." 

Antony grins. "I'll be happy to tell you," he promises. "As often as you need to hear it." His chest tightening again as he looks at Stephen.

Raising his glass in toast, Stephen offers a quiet. "To us." 

"To us," Antony says, gently clinking their glasses together before he takes a sip. "I know something I haven't asked you," he grins. "Do you like flying? As opposed to just putting up with it?"

"Depends, where I'm going and how tired I am," Stephen settles back in his seat again, glass in hand. "I don't _dislike_ it."

"Marcus is scared shitless of flying," Antony says. "Whenever we fly together, I can't even talk to him during the flight because he gets so freaked out."

"That's a bit shit considering how much you travel?" Stephen picked up very early on that Antony is reluctant to talk about the details of his work - and he assumes it's because Antony works so damned hard that when he's off duty, work is the last thing he wants to talk about. So he's always surprised when Antony brings up his co-workers or his work. "Is he a puker?" he grins a little wickedly, "Or just one of those bugged eyed on edge freaks?"

"The second," Antony says with a laugh. "But to be fair," he adds. "We did crash once. But he was phobic even before that."

It takes a moment, and then Stephen blinks in surprise. "You what? You crashed? When? Where?" 

"Middle of the fucking Congo, a few years back. We were in one of those stupid little prop planes," Antony says, shaking his head at the memory. "It took us three days to hike out to so-called civilization."

"The Congo?" The sound of disbelief in Stephen's voice increases. "The place where all sort of horrific viruses live?" He shakes his head. "So you weren't injured then? Three days? Fuck!" Clearly there is still a huge amount he still has to learn about his lover. 

"I broke my leg but we splinted it and Marcus dislocated his shoulder so we put that back in," Antony says, not entirely sure why he's telling Stephen the gruesome details. Except maybe... maybe he needs to know his lover, his boy, can handle them. Or not. "The pilot and the other two guys who were with us weren't so lucky though. I don't think they ever found their bodies."

The matter of fact way Antony talks about such a close brush with death is shocking and Stephen finds himself silent as he digests the information. He takes a large gulp of wine and exhales before replying in a quiet voice. "That sounds pretty horrific."

"We'd done a lot of training," Antony assures him. "Not that it made it easy. It wasn't. It was pure hell, but I knew we'd get out of there and we were a lot better off than someone would've been who didn't have our training."

"Have you been in the military?" Stephen thinks it's a fair question. He holds Antony's gaze over the top of his glass. 

Antony nods. "Right out of university."

"And? Tell me about that," Stephen takes a sip of his wine and lifts a brow a little - almost in challenge. 

"I did some time with the New Zealand Army, then transferred over to the Australian one and then I spent a few years in the British SAS," Antony says, figuring all of that's safe enough. Close enough to the truth even if it's not all of it. "My company was something I started running on the side, with guys who had finished their service, and by the time I was done, it was pretty well established."

"I thought what you did was more computer based, office stuff, but it's not is it?" Stephen leans in now, setting his glass down. "It's more hands on," he adds softly. 

Antony's quiet, even though he must have known what he was saying would lead them here or somewhere like it. Finally he nods. "Yeah, a lot of it is," he says. "Personal security gets pretty personal."

Stephen considers his lover for a moment, rubs his fingers over his mouth. "I won't ever ask you questions, but just make sure you come home to me in one piece," he says quietly. "Do you understand?"

Every word is such a fucking relief. All of it? Taken together? It blows Antony's mind. Stephen doesn't know all of it. Not even close. But the fact that he can live with what he does and won't ask questions about the rest? "I promise," Antony says, nodding. "Cross my heart."

"And if anything were to happen, who knows about me to tell me?" And there it is, Stephen's serious side, he might come over as an easy going guy but whilst he might not be as worldly wise as Antony in experience, he's no naive Hollywood bimbo. 

"Everyone has a file with the company," Antony says softly. "I'll add you to my notify list when we get back."

Stephen nods, as if satisfied with that answer. "Thank you," he murmurs, any further conversation on the subject however is interrupted by the arrival of their food. 

The food, as always, smells and looks incredible. Antony groans with pleasure before even taking a bite. "God, I love this place," he says with a grin.

Stephen flicks out his napkin and sets it on his lap before starting in, he's still a little shell shocked from what he's learned tonight and he knows it'll take some processing, but he smiles at Antony and silently slides an onion ring over onto his lover's plate.


End file.
